


A Little Off The Top

by lesbomancy



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Gen, Sith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-22 11:51:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6078291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbomancy/pseuds/lesbomancy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Donnelly Anlon, just a simple soldier, manages to best a Sith on Hoth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Off The Top

Donnelly opened his eyes and saw the biting cold of Hoth staring back down at him, pissing on his face with those little frozen water flakes of ‘fuck you.’ The internal HUD of his helmet was fogging up from his breath and as he moved to get his bearings he realized that he had lost his rifle. This was gonna be a fucking grade-A day, eh?

The snow crunched underneath him as he pulled himself out of the hole in the snow that he was passed out in. The immediate area was a burning husk with several dropships in various states of being blown to shit. A few troop transports also looked to take hits, their positions indicating that they were in a convoy. There were bodies, too, nearly a hundred bodies scattered about the area that he could recognize as being Republic from the blue stripe on their uniforms and maybe nearly seventy or eighty others that had the outline of Imperial troopers.

A fucking ambush. He looked behind him to take stock of the facility they had been defending, an ion cannon, and then checked his vitals through his HUD. He wasn’t going to die.. but that dent in his helmet felt real. Must have been caught by a piece of debris from the nearby dropship.. the one his subordinate officer was hanging out of, his charred armor and helmet making him look like a gruesome skeleton out of a horror movie.

The internal thermometer on his suit began to yell at him, the temperature dropping to the point where he’d freeze to death soon. After a quick voice command to shut it up and finding a new rifle and a few power cells off of a dead comrade (sorry, Bekat. It’s a nice rifle!) he made way for the wide-open doors of Firebase Desh. The facility itself didn’t look to take any damage beyond a few random potshots, no doubt a side-effect of the ambush they were experiencing before they responded to another battle far away… shit, he hoped Frogdog Company managed to win. Major Serith owed him a good three hundred credits.

As soon as he entered the base the doors behind him drew down and shut loudly, blocking out the growing blizzard and allowing Donnelly to draw his hand up to press the left side of his helmet to his ear.

“Any survivors from Hound or Bogstalker Company read me? This is Major Anlon, calling out for any survivors of the ambush.”

Silence. White noise. He pressed his hand harder, forcing the headphone close. A small static discharged zapped him on the neck and he threw his helmet off to the ground with a curse. It bounded harmlessly to the ground, rolling down the ramp towards the innards of the base.

He reached into one of his belt capsules and pulled out a headset, affixing it to his head before turning on the attached flashlight. The base didn’t seem to be running it’s lights, running on full emergency power since the attack. Donnelly wondered why the bulkheads didn’t go into lockdown but he didn’t really care. Once he got to the control room he could send a signal to Aurek and get extraction or some of those fresh-faced idiot reinforcements to hold the fort until they could do.. something.

Losing two companies wasn’t exactly a good thing to do. It’d just be another fucking shot to his career - and this time he didn’t deserve it. Getting sent to Hoth was more often than not the last stop for troublemakers like him.. but his kids didn’t deserve it. Nobody deserved to die on this stupid fucking rock other than the Imps.

They could live here. Scavenge all they want. Blow each other. Good riddance, he thought. Let them all mass emigrate here - he’d help them do so if they asked. A flash of light caught his eye as he went down the corridor, as well as the outline of a figure.

Ah, fuck. Nope, nope, nope. The dark hallway has something in it, you go inside and then you’re dead. That’s how people died in the vids and that means that it’s how people die in real life. He’d seen enough horror vids to know where this shit was leading.

Which is exactly why he checked his rifle’s power level, clicked the safety off and began to walk down the hall. The flashlight did an excellent job at illuminating the narrow passageway but as he got closer to control he noticed the lights were still on, so like any suspicious little fuck he turned his headlamp off and kept close to the wall. He stole enough food from the mess after hours so that he knew how to walk silently in these metal floored halls.

He heard voices coming from the control room. OK, Donnelly, you’re a goddamn Major in the army. You can handle a dweeb technician of a survivor. He put himself close to the cold wall, leaning to glance at the control room and it’s fully operable lights. Those lights were the only reason he was able to see what was going on.

Three figures. Two Imp soldiers and.. a Sith. Tall, black robes, certain death, the whole kit and caboodle.

Donnelly supposed it was nice living up until now. He’d probably do more vid conferences with that reporter on Coruscant who he fell in love with. Hell, he probably should have told her that he loved her before he was redeployed. Maybe giving his son Kerl one last bed time story about his adventures as he kept the peace during the Cold War.

Then he remembered who he was: Major Donnelly Beatrice Anlon. The brave, bold soldier and lover who wasn’t going to die in a whimper among shadows but in a bang as he shot off some Sith Lord’s cock before he got decapitated. Yeah, that’s who he was! One big goddamn hero!

He flipped himself from around the corner, firing off the rifle in three quick bursts. The two Imperials at the console of the ion cannon dropped dead, Donnelly’s shouldered and stationary shots hitting them once in the back, neck, and helmet. Fucking headshot!

The Sith wasn’t an easy kill. He suspected that much as they twirled around like a damned ballerina and deflected all three bolts with a lightsaber. They flipped off their robe and placed it over a chair as if they’d come back for it in a moment, looking down at their honor guard as a slow, menacing rumble came from their faceless helmet.

“Suppose it’s too late to ask for you to leave nicely?” Donnelly asked.

“Congratulations. Your last words are to that of a fool’s,” the Sith returned.

A masculine voice! Well, that made him better. Damned what was between their legs, as long as he wasn’t gonna die to a girl it’d be alright in the afterlife!

“Yeah.. well. Fuck you. C'mon, then. Let’s have aAAAHHH!-” Donnelly dropped to the floor, the lightsaber the Sith had millimeters from his face as it burned the chin hairs off of his handlebar mustache before it lodged into the wall behind him, the head of the blade making him really wish he had some hot cocoa and a possibility of not-death.

In the blink of an eye the Sith was bounding towards him with a hand raised. The lightsaber in the wall switched off, returned to it’s master, and turned on again as he swung wildly at the floor that Donnelly was laying on.

Being a man who had to dodge an ex-wife with a meat cleaver intent on removing his manhood he had played this game before while waiting for the cops to arrive. Left, right, center! The ground became littered in scorch marks and scarring as he rolled around like a disobedient armadillo, eventually reeling back at an opening and kicking the Sith so hard in the chest that he had time to get to his feet and fire off a few rounds.

The Sith deflected them all, making the walls spark before one quick slice removed the rifle of it’s barrel. Oh shit! Thinking as quickly as possible he simply threw the rifle at the Sith, the distracting giving him enough time to pull the Imperial close, pull back his sleeve and bite as hard as he could into the Sith’s wrist.

He fully expected to die from this but even as a human Donnelly had some nasty, pointy carnivore teeth. The Sith’s brass colored skin broke as the soldier ripped a giant chunk of flesh from it’s owner, blood spraying the air wildly.

A burst of force energy sent Donnelly flying back into the wall and onto the floor, the face-down impact knocking the wind out of him and eliciting a nasty crack once his nose made impact with the floor. He saw stars before feeling the slow trickle of blood create a warm pool around his face.

The sound of a light saber igniting removed Donnelly from his stupor and made him fully aware of how few options he had left. He rolled onto his back and wiped the blood from his face, craning his head to see the severely bleeding Sith growl as they violently swung their blade in preparation for the final kill.

His hand fumbled around for a side-arm, a knife.. anything.. and he found only a singular sticky grenade. One that a Sith could bat away with the Force like a moth if he felt so fucking inclined and to add insult to injury he knew he could throw it back onto Donnelly if he wanted to. A little lightbulb went off as he slid around on the slick, metal floor a little.. and he waited.

The Sith stood before him, staring down through their helmet as they panted and grunted from the pain. He turned his blade upside down and positioned it in a pose so that he was ready to cut Donnelly’s head off when he swung downwards.

“Just like a Republic fool to fight a losing battle instead of retreating. You were an honorable fight and you will make a good tale,” he said through his helmet, drawing the blade up above his head before swinging it down.

Donnelly’s life became a bit of a blur as he pushed down on the wall and shot off of it like a hotdog down a waterslide, the wet, snow-caked armor making him as slipper as a greased mole rat. He flew through the Sith’s legs, slamming the sticky grenade on the Imperial’s ass before quickly losing control of his Republic Bobsled Team aspirations and crashing against the stairs to the control room proper.

The Sith’s blade hit metal and he twirled around to let out another roar of displeasure. Donnelly looked like a discarded action figure as he worked to claw himself to a sitting position. He then gestured to rear end and then to the Sith, drawing confusion from the warrior of darkness.

Turning to face their hip and pat their ass with their wounded hand they were not happy to discover a sticky grenade pinned to their armor which beeped once to indicate it was time to go bye-bye. He looked back to Donnelly and took one step, raising the lightsaber high above his head before the explosion wracked the hallway, dust, shrapnel and snow causing the entire hall to be enveloped in a hazy mist for several seconds.

Donnelly coughed, getting pelted with a few icicles that clung to the ceiling. Now he had a story about how he killed Sith, and one he’d be proud to tell from the sounds of it. He lifted a hand up to pluck flesh and hair from his teeth, wiping down his reddened mouth and mustache to look less like a cannibal. That guy tasted awful.

He pushed himself to a stand and went over to survey what remained of the Sith’s corpse. A pair of boots and a lot of dirtied blood, shattered metal armor and flesh turned the corner of the hall into a horror house’s feature presentation. Half of the head and helmet were blasted into the ceiling, dripping blood down which congealed at the base of Donnelly’s foot.

Then he spotted it. The best trophy in the world. The severed Sith’s arm was still clinging to the lightsaber, the blade lodged into the wall and slowly melting it’s way down to the floor. He ran over to it and began to pry the fingers free one-by-one until the blade turned off.. and then he held it before him like a thing of wonder.

The radio in the control room began to crackle loudly, “-.. base. this is Frogdog company! Is anyone alive in there?! Open the door before we have to turn around! It's freezing out here!”

Donnelly rushed over to the control panel, disengaging the emergency lockdown and opening the door. From the touchscreen’s built-in camera he saw the 50 men from Frogdog Company pile into the base and out of the below freezing temperatures.

Satisfied, he leaned back on the console and admired the lightsaber.

“You know what, bud?” he said out loud, looking up to the head lodged into the ceiling. “This -is- gonna make a good tale.”


End file.
